The Smashing Machine

Director: Benny Safdie
Starring: Dwayne Johnson, Emily Blunt, Ryan Bader, Bas Rutten, Oleksandr Usyk, Olga Dzyurak, Lyndsey Gavin, Satoshi Ishii, James Moontasri, Yoko Hamamura, Stephen Quadros, Whitney Moore
Running Time: 123 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)    

It seems odd that the biggest question going into The Smashing Machine was whether Dwayne Johnson could capably play the role of former amateur wrestler turned MMA fighter Mark Kerr. But that we still  ask given the actor's history on the mat speaks to just how far removed he's been since becoming a major movie star. It's less whether he can do it than if audiences would bite after an endless string of action vehicles had us thinking he gave up being taken seriously as a dramatic actor. Johnson came out of the gate with such undeniable charisma and early promise we knew he'd eventually jump into more challenging roles in different genres. It's only when the big paydays came and his movies kept dominating the box office that he resisted straying from his familiar formula. 

Now after stumbling with Black Adam and the PR mess that followed, Johnson's asking fans to accept this sudden shift that can best be called a calculated gamble. But while that and a depressing subject matter are potential reasons for why audiences stayed away, it isn't a reflection of the film's quality. Everything that can go right does, even as writer/director Benny Safdie crafts a somewhat familiar sports underdog story laced with tragedy. Unfolding with almost documentary-like truthfulness, how it's told and Johnson's performance help lift it, making for an emotionally raw character study.  

It's 1999 and we see grainy, VHS fight footage of UFC competitor Mark Kerr (Johnson), being interviewed about his impressive winning streak as he heads to Japan for his next fight, accompanied by trainer, best friend and fellow competitor Mark Coleman (Ryan Bader). But it's Kerr's volatile relationship with girlfriend Dawn Staples (Emily Blunt) that causes problems, especially as he becomes increasingly dependent on drugs, injecting opioids around the clock to numb the pain and continue fighting. 

Between arguing with Japanese officials about his pay and getting into locker room screaming matches with Dawn, a glassy eyed Kerr reaches the end of his rope after a devastating loss sends him home and eventually to rehab following an overdose. While he diligently commits to staying clean, rehab and recovery is a change Dawn can't deal with, especially once he begins training for his comeback under the tutelage of MMA legend Bas Rutten (playing himself). With one last shot at redemption, Kerr attempts to maintain his sobriety and career, as he and Dawn continue to lock horns, headed for a nasty collision course.  

There's this moment early on when Kerr's asked by an interviewer what he'd do if he lost and his reaction speaks volumes. It's almost as if he can't wrap his head around such an idea, much less the actual possibility, despite it being a prerequisite for every great champion. Watching, you're reminded of Ronda Rousey, a fighter so driven by her hunger to win that she couldn't psychologically process the alternative. When it came, she unraveled, just as Kerr does, going into immediate denial and frantically grasping at straws to search for a loophole that might overturn his worst nightmare. 

Of course, Kerr being high all the time doesn't help, transforming him into someone far different from the polite, mild mannered giant who befriends grandmas and kids in doctor's offices at the film's start. On the mat he's a maniac, but the loss marks a turning point in his personal life, causing him to direct much of that rage at a frustrated Dawn, who gives it right back. Nearly from the jump, Safdie plant the seed that she's an outsider in her boyfriend's world, always taking a back seat to his love of competition. 

Accustomed to being the center of attention, Dawn tries to connect with him, only pushing his buttons instead, leaving a patient, levelheaded Coleman to act as intermediary while facing media criticism his own MMA career is winding down. Ironically, it's when Kerr gets clean that things get far worse, prompting us to realize his toxic relationship with Dawn can't exclusively be chalked up to the drugs. At times it's more a symptom than a cause since there's more than enough blame to go around for both. Only when he starts making real strides in his recovery do they drift even further apart, causing an isolated Dawn to spiral.

Buried under facial prosthetics, a bigger, more jacked than usual Johnson sort of resembles a cross between Lou Ferrigno and Kurt Angle, with a little of The Rock peeking through. Claims that he's completely unrecognizable or totally disappears aren't exactly accurate, but that's a good thing, since this portrayal wouldn't be nearly as effective without the actor's real persona enhancing it. And though his skills are stretched beyond anything we've recently seen from him, it still incorporates a showmanship and intensity similar to that he displayed between the ropes. We glimpse it in scenes where he's demolishing doors and walls, but it's actually the quieter, emotional moments where he's most impressive, breaking down like a small, helpless child as his character crumbles. 

Eyes rolled when it appeared Blunt would be saddled with another suffering wife role, but Dawn has a meatier arc than that, particularly in the film's second half, mostly due to the actress and a certain level of awareness in Safdie's script. And while Kerr's pairing with her is marred by addiction and mental instability, it strays from the usual template of a abusive relationship, creating a murkier than usual dynamic. MMA fighter Ryan Bader is also excellent in his acting debut, bringing a grounded believability to pal and cornerman Mark Coleman while Bas Rutten's brief but memorable appearance is as crazy as you'd want. 

The ending notably diverges from the "final fight" sports biopic trope in that there's no victory, at least in a traditional cinematic sense. What Kerr achieves is subtler, less tangible and only achievable through continued progress. The very last scene is a keeper, delightfully showing us the real Kerr out and about in the present day. But for those blaming the film's perceived failure on no one knowing who this guy is, it's best to remember all characters are strangers before the credits roll, whether we've heard of them or not. An actor's job is to fill in the blanks, which Johnson compellingly does from its opening minutes.  

I'll gladly take ten Smashing Machines over the projects Johnson's recently chosen, while hoping its muted reception doesn't cause him to swear off riskier parts and head straight back to the action realm. Ideally, he should do a variety of both, which would have already gotten fans used to the idea of him tackling heavier material. But he's on the right track, even if it didn't pull viewers who flocked to Johnson's other movies. Unflinchingly honest, it rarely pulls its punches, dropping us into a grittier era to tell the story of the fighter who helped put UFC on the map.                                         

The Life of Chuck

Director: Mike Flanagan
Starring: Tom Hiddleston, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Karen Gillan, Mark Hamill, Mia Sara, Nick Offerman, Carl Lumbly, Benjamin Pajak, Jacob Tremblay, Annalise Basso, Taylor Gordon, Kate Siegel, Samantha Sloyan, Trinity Bliss, Matthew Lillard, Violet McGraw, Heather Langencamp, David Dastmalchian, Cody Flanagan, Q'orianka Kilcher, Antonio Raul Corbo, Molly C. Quinn, Michael Trucco, Carla Gugino, Lauren LaVera
Running Time: 111 min.
Rating: R

**The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers**

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

In a year that's seen no shortage of Stephen King's work on screen, the feeling is that most of his films fit into one of two categories. Although he's best known for straightforward horror, it always seems to be the others that stop you dead in your tracks, forcing a double take to confirm it's his name appearing above the credits. But it wasn't until The Shawshank Redemption hit theaters in 1994 that perceptions of the author really started to change, earning him full respect outside the horror genre. And now we can properly credit this evolution for helping clear the path for Mike Flanagan's The Life of Chuck, one of the strongest King adaptations ever lensed. 

Based on a novella from the writer's 2020 short story collection, If It Bleeds, the film fearlessly explores the minutiae of everyday life, carefully walking a delicate line that separates mysticism from reality. And it comes from a director who's no stranger to King's material, having helmed Gerald's Game and The Shining's surprisingly well received sequel, Doctor Sleep, both of which share little in common with this. But who is Chuck? The answer is simpler than we expect, yet also much deeper and more profound. Every scene, moment and line of dialogue revolves around this title character, even when you're lulled into thinking otherwise. It's all about him, and in a strangely cosmic sense, also us. 

Middle school teacher Marty Anderson (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is having an awful day, even as many around the globe are suffering far worse. California was just struck by a catastrophic 9.2 earthquake, the internet is out worldwide, cars are falling into sink holes and suicides are way up. It could be the end and he's stuck sitting through unpleasant parent-teacher conferences when not being bombarded by billboards, commercials and advertisements thanking an accountant named Charles "Chuck" Krantz for "39 Great Years!' Marty's ex-wife Felicia Gordon (Karen Gillan), a nurse at the local hospital, isn't faring any better, with the pair leaning on each other during what could be their last days. 

Flashing back some months earlier, we follow a middle-aged Chuck (Tom Hiddleston), who while attending a banking conference has a spontaneous musical moment involving a street drummer (Taylor Gordon) and red-haired young woman (Annalise Basso) in the midst of a bad breakup. From there, we get a look at Chuck's childhood spent living with his kind but alcoholic grandfather Albie (Mark Hamill) and free spirited grandmother Sarah (Mia Sara) following the death of his parents and unborn baby sister. Torn between an interest in dance and Albie's insistence on a more practical path, Chuck is sternly warned by him to stay out of the house's locked cupola, only further piquing the boy's curiosity.  

Told in reverse chronological order, those expecting the life affirming tale hinted at in the trailers may initially be taken aback by an apocalyptic parable along the lines of a moodier, more philosophical Leave The World Behind. But the worst way to approach any of this is literally, like a puzzle in need of solving. Better described as the series finale of a life, there are clues, just not related to what you'd assume, some of which are caught on a second watch once the whole story's played out. 

Even when we struggle to process how much of the opening act's cataclysmic disaster is actually real, Marty and Felicia's sinking feelings of dread and hopelessness remain a constant. Exes with only each other to lean on as they try to process all that's happening during a deep late night conversation, the substance of their talk proves important later. We'll also meet other shaken residents, like Marty's manic neighbor Gus (Matthew Lillard), kindly, dignified town mortician Sam (Carl Lumbly), depressed single father Josh (David Dastmalchian) and a reappearing young girl on roller skates (Violet McGraw). 

With the situation worsening, a distracted Marty and Felicia still can't seem to figure out who this "Chuck" guy is or why his pleasant, bespeckled mug is everywhere of late, including through the illuminated windows of neighborhood homes. Becoming as ubiquitous as Truman Burbank, he's not old enough to be retiring so there's clearly something else going on. But as achingly believable as Ejiofor and Gillan are in these roles, they'll exit stage left when it's time to meet Chuck. 

In the first of Flanagan's many carefully calibrated tonal shifts, the story enters uncharted territory with the introduction of mild mannered insurance agent Chuck, who's briefly played by Hiddleston in a part smaller than you'd expect, but no less monumental. His encounter with this street drummer and bystander comes delightfully out of nowhere, with the actor gradually conveying all the complicated, inexplicable emotions flowing through Chuck in that moment.

This is also when Nick Offerman's narrator emerges as a character unto himself, supplying pointed and poignant observations lifted directly from King's prose. The actor's deep baritone and droll, bemused delivery is immediately recognizable when delivering a sarcastic, occasionally hilarious commentary that disproves the ridiculous theory all voice overs are lazy. Anything can be mishandled, but A Christmas Story and Arrested Development would probably like a word since both serve as a template for how Offerman deftly adds to the verisimilitude of Flanagan's universe.

Carefully placed but never overused, the narration builds and memorably punctuates certain scenes, like when tracking the three strangers as they cross paths in the spectacular, impromptu dance sequence that means more than we initially think. The thrilling choreography and performances provide a wake-up call, putting viewers on notice that the film's turned an unpredictable corner. But what's scarier is how it'll later be topped by an even better one. 

Joy begets tragedy when Chuck's childhood is drastically altered following his parents' death. Played by three different actors at separate ages, the heaviest lifting comes from a revelatory Benjamin Pajak as the 11-year-old version. And while he's nearly unrecognizable behind a scraggly, walrus-like mustache, Mark Hamill gives the performance of his career as Albie, at one point turning a speech that extols the virtues of mathematics into quiet devastation for a grandson whose ambitions are squashed in an instant. But in embodying this flawed but well meaning grandfather with such sincerity, we believe his advice comes from the right place, despite how visibly painful it is for the boy to hear.    

That moment puts everything previously shown into proper perspective, helping explain why Chuck stops at the sound of those drums later on the street as an adult, surrendering to a love that's laid dormant for decades as he pursued a more conventional career path. But many of his interests stem from his movie musical obsessed grandmother Sarah, a practical voice of wisdom and reason he always felt more connected to than Albie, mainly because she's so much fun. In her first acting role in over a decade, Ferris Bueller and Legend star Mia Sara doesn't get a ton of screen time, but does she ever make the most of it, her character's presence and impact reverberating long after she's left the picture. 

A seemingly superfluous side plot involving Chuck's extracurricular dance club hits hardest, forming the crux of the story's importance and bookending what that came before. This is Flanagan's finest hour, depicting the pangs of adolescence with relatable humor and heartbreaking nostalgia, avoiding the sappiness that would sink lesser films of a similar ilk. It's also full of small moments you don't want to see end, from Chuck's unforgettable interaction with hippie teacher Miss Richards (Kate Siegel) to his crush on taller, older dance partner Cat (Trinity Bliss) that culminates in the film's most moving scene. Everything about it is pure magic, including Chuck getting just the right advice from the coach (Samantha Sloyan) during a sudden attack of fear and insecurity. And while there's real doubt how things will turn out, the pay off is exhilarating, with Offerman's narrator capping it all off with a perfect line that encapsulates a kind of memory that can't be described. 

Invoking elements from The Tree of Life and even Robert Zemeckis's Here, Flanagan gives the material a Spielbergian touch by celebrating the profound intricacies of human experience in ways that speaks directly to mainstream moviegoers. With cinematographer Eben Bolter expertly conveying each chapter's distinctive look and The Newton Brothers' sweeping score carrying us through, it feels like the type of dramatic fantasy that would have blown theatergoers away in the 90's and 00's. Bubbling just under the surface is this mystery that comes to a head in its closing minutes, pulling back the curtain with a reveal that leaves you gasping for air as the credits roll. 

Between an off-putting title, its inexplicable 'R' rating, poor promotion and getting dumped into theaters a year after winning the top prize in Toronto, it's obvious the studio didn't have a clue how to sell a film this adventurous. A meditation on life and death in reverse, shocking developments and surprising performances pop up at every turn, forcing viewers to question the journey they're really on. And with a myriad of tiny details left for discovery on repeated viewings, it saves the best act for last, making it a rarity among King's prolific output.                         

The Fantastic Four: First Steps

Director: Matt Shakman
Starring: Pedro Pascal, Vanessa Kirby, Ebon Moss-Bachrach, Joseph Quinn, Julia Garner, Sarah Niles, Mark Gatiss, Natasha Lyonne, Paul Walter Hauser, Ralph Ineson, Matthew Wood
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: PG-13 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

After previous attempts failed at capturing the magic its characters brought to the page, delivering even just a decent cinematic interpretation of Marvel's Fantastic Four grew needlessly difficult. And between an unreleased 90's version, two lackluster installments in the 00's and that abysmal 2015 reboot, the idea of giving it another go has largely been frowned upon. That is until a desire to fill out out the MCU's next phase prompted Disney to take an entirely new approach to the material. 

The end result is director Matt Shakman's The Fantastic Four: First Steps, a thrilling sci-fi adventure that succeeds in erasing unpleasant memories of series past. Boosted by spectacular effects and jaw-dropping production design, world building becomes as much a priority as the actual plot, which is also surprisingly strong. After a somewhat methodical start, it gains traction from a formidable pair of villains and a retro-futuristic aesthetic more comparable to The Jetsons than a Marvel comic book movie. And yes, that's a compliment. 

It's 1964 on Earth-828 as everyone celebrates the fourth anniversary of astronauts Reed Richards (Pedro Pascal), Sue Storm (Vanessa Kirby), Ben Grimm (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) and Johnny Storm (Joseph Quinn) gaining superhuman abilities after being exposed to cosmic rays during a space mission. Collectively known as the "Fantastic Four, they're worldwide celebrities, having vanquished various supervillains while inventor Reed's technological contributions and Sue's diplomatic work positively reverberate through society. 

With Reed and Sue now expecting a baby that may or may not also possess superpowers, the Silver Surfer (Julia Garner) arrives, declaring Earth marked for destruction by planet devouring cosmic giant Galactus (Ralph Ineson). The team travels to space to stop him, learning the couple's unborn child has the ability to relieve Galactus of his insatiable, life sustaining appetite for consuming planets. Sensing that power, he offers to spare Earth, but only if they hand over the baby. With the public angrily rebelling at the possibility they'd save one child over an entire population, the foursome devise a plan to defeat this gargantuan threat. 

A lot of effort is put into wiping the slate clean and establishing these characters through comedic interplay, family bonding and 60's inspired newsreel footage. While not exactly an origin story, it leaves no stone unturned in showing what the team's been up to for the past four years, nearly going overboard with their introductions. But there's a reason for that, and even when some of the humor falls flat, we're too mesmerized by Kasra Farahani's mid-century set design and Jess Hall's vibrant cinematography to notice. Between the lava lamps, curved architecture, bold colors, and sleek jumpsuits, it all invokes a visual feel no recent Marvel outing has come close to matching. 

At first, we get brief glimpses of the powers even viewers with only limited exposure to the films and comics will recognize. Reed's elasticity, Sue's invisibility, Johnny's ability to generate fire and Ben Grimm's superhuman strength as the giant, hulking The Thing will all come into play once Shalla-Bal's bursts onto the scene. And for all the complaints about a female Silver Silver, it's worth noting that Garner's mo-cap performance and appearance in the role might be the film's strongest aspect. 

Everything about the Surfer's presentation just hits, from her opening speech, to the connection she has with Johnny and even that brief flashback. So while it's easy to commiserate with fans demanding a male for consistency's sake, the blame can't be leveled at Garner, who overdelivers in a part only bolstered by the impressive effects. 

Kirby's Sue/Invisible Woman carries much of the film's physical and emotional heavy lifting when confronted with a dangerous proposition that puts her baby at risk. She not only benefits from an arc that really kicks into overdrive late in the game, but by encompassing how most envision Sue Storm to look and act based on the comics. With Pascal, its clear the producers went with the safest, most accessible choice for Reed. This combined with the actor's ubiquitous presence of late helped create the perception Marvel may phone this in. Only they don't, and Pascal's take on a genius who's smart enough to acknowledge he may not have all the answers ends up being better than its gotten credit for. 

Bachrach's self conscious but gentle giant Ben Grimm mostly tracks with prior incarnations, though he benefits from much improved VFX that emphasizes The Thing's monstrous appearance. A charismatic Quinn puts enough of his own spin on Johnny/Human Torch, giving the character a more likable, comedic slant without sacrificing the heroic aspects that define him. Unfortunately, despite ads implying the second coming of R2D2, robot assistant H.E.R.B.I.E. (voiced by Matthew Wood) is relegated to window dressing while Paul Walter Hauser's Mole Man merely serves as a comedic foil in the last act. 

The finale does work, as the team attempts to take out Galactus, who robotically marches through the streets with enormity and purpose that recalls a more sadistic Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Of course, there's mid-credits scene to dissect, but since we already know when the four are showing up again, the bigger questions surround how. But regardless of what follows, Shakman and company diligently stick to the task at hand, successfully re-establishing Marvel's "First Family" following a string of bad luck over the years.

Stylistically straying from other MCU entries, this functions well as a standalone, with no prior research or homework required to enjoy the ride. And tightly clocking in at under 120 minutes, this doesn't overstay its welcome, avoiding the burn out that's accompanied some of the studio's nearly three hour endurance tests. Effectively prioritizing story and spectacle, First Steps lifts the creative curse, doing justice to these characters and unlocking the potential we always suspected this series had.                              

A House of Dynamite

 

Director: Kathryn Bigelow
Starring: Idris Elba, Rebecca Ferguson, Gabriel Basso, Jared Harris, Tracy Letts, Anthony Ramos, Moses Ingram, Jonah Hauer-King, Greta Lee, Jason Clarke, Willa Fitzgerald, Renée Elise Goldsberry, Kaitlyn Dever
Running Time: 112 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

What's so startling about Kathryn Bigelow's A House of Dynamite is how it maintains the momentum of remaining just twenty minutes away from imminent doom for the picture's entire running length. By shifting perspectives between multiple characters and doubling back to reveal crucial information, Bigelow presents a horrifying scenario that doesn't seem so far removed from current reality. And while experts will probably pick apart certain details in screenwriter and former NBC News President Noah Oppenheim's script, the chilling conceit behind his apocalyptic premise undeniably resonates.

No longer a false alarm or hypothetical, these officials try to navigate a nuclear pressure cooker where experience helps, but isn't enough, especially when a half-broken system and lack of information leaves the fate of the United States up to a coin toss. Buoyed by an all-star cast, their characters know something the world doesn't as seconds tick away, each forced to endure the quiet torture of telling their families without really "telling" them. But beyond that, it's compelling to watch how they function as cogs in a giant machine that just isn't built for something like this. 

Showing the same sequence of events from three points of view, the action opens early morning in Washington D.C., when White House Situation Room manager Olivia Walker (Rebecca Ferguson, Deputy National Security Advisor Jake Baerington (Gabriel Basso) and the President of the United States (Idris Elba) are informed that radar detected an unidentified ICBM launched over the Pacific on a trajectory to strike Chicago within twenty minutes. After being initially dismissed as a routine missile test, events take a horrifying turn,with all hands on deck to determine the next steps. 

The President joins a video call with Secretary of Defense Reid Baker (Jared Harris) and U.S. Strategic Command's General Anthony Brady (Tracy Letts) as Fort Greely commander Major Daniel Gonzalez (Anthony Ramos) is ordered to launch ground based interceptors to take out the missile. But when further complications arise and FEMA activates an emergency response, the President must make an unimaginable choice. With Chicago minutes away from being leveled, the realization sets in that the worst may still be ahead.

There's no reason for those involved to believe it'll be anything other than a normal day, or as normal as it gets in jobs this crucial to national security. For a short while, a small sense of predictability and routine follows Olivia to work that morning as she says goodbye to her husband and sick young son, unaware of what awaits. Ferguson's performance in these early scenes convey the mannerisms and demeanor of a deliberate, dedicated woman well equipped to handle crisis. But even she'll reach her breaking point while wrangling all the players necessary to stop the unthinkable. 

Despite opening those lines of communication, chaos reigns when the story shifts to Basso's flustered Baerington, who juggles the responsibility of impending fatherhood with a rapidly approaching disaster. He's nervous but exceptionally qualified in his attempts to advise the President, butting heads with Letts' General Brady, a Cheney-like war hawk hellbent on retaliation, with or without the necessary intel. The question is whether that's worth the risk when they're still unsure who's responsible or why. When technology fails, plans evolve, tragically resigning them to focus on what's still within their control.  

That's especially true for Harris's Secretary of Defense Baker, a recent widower whose estranged daughter Caroline (Kaitlyn Dever) lives directly in the path of destruction. Their brief conversation and Baker's actions after it are by far the the film's most emotionally jarring moments. There's also some smaller, but memorable turns from Moses Ingram as a FEMA official, Jason Clarke as the White House Situation Room Director, Willa Fitzgerald as a CNN reporter and Greta Lee as a National Intelligence Officer who takes the most important phone call of her life in a cruelly ironic location.   

Elba's believable portrayal as Commander-in-Chief is bolstered by subtler scenes leading into the catastrophe that puts his character's personality and leadership style into context. Already exhausted, this drains what little energy he has left as the various scenarios are laid out for someone who was making a charity appearance only minutes earlier. 

Leaning on his wife and First Lady (Renée Elise Goldsberry) for support, it's ultimately military aide Reeves (Jonah Hauer-King) who guides the POTUS in choosing between Bareington and Brady's opposing options. While the film leaves a little too much hanging in the air, it's  fairly obvious what occurs, even if it isn't shown. Still, you can't help but wonder if a more conclusive, powerful payoff could have better driven this nightmare scenario home. 

Taking inspiration from similarly themes genre classics like Fail Safe and The Day After, it's a safe bet the eerily prescient script was written years prior, serving as a stark warning for any administration, but most especially unprepared, lesser qualified ones. And while the film's title is lifted from a key line of dialogue, it also works as a choice metaphor for describing this problem we're still no closer to solving. Despite an ending that stops short of delivering an unforgettable final blow, Bigelow steps back enough to let viewers debate and dissect what they think they've just seen.